Jimmy Considers Probability Theory

It began with one entry, but now there are additions almost nightly. Jimmy's dictionary of superstitions is expanding. On paper, it's perfect. Together, they conquer the distance between playing cards and slip past simple arithmetic. Except it's no longer as easy as wood, or salt, or railroad tracks. Jimmy spends each night understanding potential, what's dealt face down, the agreements: straight flush, full house. So he holds his breath, spits, runs the numbers--certain of certain dark chances. But when day breaks (and it always does) there's nothing to collect. Jimmy sits with what remains, the remainder. He sits without her, trying to steady himself, trying to quiet the vibration of a thousand shuffled possibilities.